It's all about that Charrette

I like typing words. Some of them even make sense.

[greater-than-the-sword]

When you're a kid you just take trees for granted. Then when you get to be an adult you realize that a fully mature tree cannot be created in an amount of time that fits in a convenient landscaping timeframe for love nor money nor all the powers of science. Then you realize that people are very very very cavalier about chopping them down

[cyberpunkpavlichenko]

How did I not know that police and media initially attempted to blame an unrelated Palestinian refugee for the Oklahoma City Bombing which was actually committed by a white nationalist inspired by The Turner Diaries? They nearly and totally ruined this man’s life.

Before One of America’s Most Horrific Crimes Was Solved, Someone Else Was Publicly Blamed. The Damage Went on for Years.

The story of a man who didn’t do it.

[cyberpunkpavlichenko]

Before One of America’s Most Horrific Crimes Was Solved, Someone Else Was Publicly Blamed. The Damage Went on for Years.

The Usual Suspect

Soon after the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995, many chose the wrong man to blame. His story has been forgotten. It shouldn’t be.

APRIL 19, 2026    |    5:40 AM | Josh Levin

On the morning of April 19, 1995, Imad Enchassi drove to work at a shopping mall in Oklahoma City. Enchassi was the general manager of a buffet restaurant. As soon as he got in, he counted the money from the night before, then got ready to go to the bank and make a deposit.

Before he left, Enchassi looked out the window to make sure it was safe to take all that cash outside. Just then, he heard and felt a huge explosion. At first, he thought someone might be shooting at him, to try to steal the money. But when he opened the door and saw the sky filling with smoke, he knew it was a bomb—specifically, a car bomb.

Enchassi had grown up in Lebanon, in a family of Palestinian refugees. As a child, he lived through a brutal civil war and survived a civilian massacre in his refugee camp. “When we were little, we played ‘name the caliber of this bomb,’ ” he told me. “It sounds odd, but when you grow up in a war-torn zone, those are your games that you play as a kid.”

With the worst memories of his childhood flashing through his mind, Enchassi got behind the wheel of his pickup truck—he still had to go to the bank to make that deposit. On the radio, he heard early reports that the side of the federal building in downtown Oklahoma City had been blown away, that debris was everywhere, and that dozens of people were missing. It also seemed like the attack might not be over. The local news reported that a second bomb had been found, and then a third, and that both of them were larger than the first.

The truth was, there was just one bomb, and it had exploded in a truck parked outside of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. But on the morning of April 19, no one knew much—about who had attacked Oklahoma City, or how, or why. And Enchassi, who’d survived years of warfare in Lebanon, was scared. “It was just déjà vu,” he said. “This is what I ran away from.”

Like Enchassi, Ahmad was in his early 30s and had grown up in the Middle East as a Palestinian refugee. On April 19, he was headed off to Jordan to see his family. He was traveling alone; his wife, Martina, was staying behind with their two young daughters. Ahmad was in a hurry that morning, hunting around for his socks before he kissed the kids goodbye. A relative drove him to the airport, and he got there in time to make his 10:40 a.m. connection to Chicago. That was the first leg on an itinerary that would take him to Rome and then his final destination, Amman.

Ahmad’s plane landed at O’Hare in the early afternoon. As he walked into the terminal, he didn’t know anything about what had happened back at home. What he did see, as he found the gate for his flight to Rome, was a chyron on a faraway TV: “Breaking News: Oklahoma.”

His first thought was that there might’ve been an earthquake, and he worried that something might’ve happened to his wife and kids. But Ahmad didn’t get the chance to call them. “A minute or two later, it was the Customs or the Immigration,” he told me. “They politely came and just told me, just, ‘Would you come with us?’ ”

That simple question was only the beginning of an unrelenting nightmare. Ahmad would be detained and interrogated. The media would connect his name to one of the most horrific crimes in American history. It would take him days to fully understand what had happened in Oklahoma, and what was happening to him. Now, more than three decades later, those days are a terrifying testament to what can follow a rush to judgment in America—and how stereotypes can obscure the real dangers hiding in plain sight.

When Ahmad got pulled aside at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, he’d been living in the United States for 13 years. He first came to America on a student visa. His first stop in 1982 was Long Island, where he stayed with a friend’s uncle. When that man brought him to a fast-food restaurant and ordered hamburgers, Ahmad remembered, “I told him, ‘I don’t eat pork.’ And then … they explained to me what’s ham and what’s hamburger.”

Ahmad wasn’t in New York for long. A Jordanian company had gotten him admitted to a junior college in a tiny town in Oklahoma. At school, he made friends with a small group of Muslim students. They hung out, studied, and prayed together. They also aroused the suspicion of their white neighbors. One night, he was preparing for a calculus test when he heard a knock on the door. When he opened it, “around 15, 20 guys push the door in my face and start beating me, beating me, beating me.”

After that attack, the college’s dean of international students advised Ahmad that he’d be safer somewhere else. He ended up at a school outside Oklahoma City. It was there that he fell in love with his new home state, and started wearing boots and cowboy hats. Ahmadstudied computer science, and in 1990 he became a U.S. citizen. Ahmad, his wife, and his two daughters eventually settled in uptown Oklahoma City, four miles northwest of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. “You could make it in America,” he told me. “You could have a good job, and you can afford to save money and buy your own house.”

After all that, Ahmad didn’t get rattled easily. So on April 19, 1995, when Customs and Immigration officials pulled him aside at the airport and started asking him questions, he felt confused but not scared. He suspected that they thought he might be carrying a phony passport, but he was happy to clear up any confusion.

Customs and Immigration were done with him after a couple of hours, but Ahmad wasn’t free to go. A team of FBI agents came in with a new batch of questions. They wanted to know about the Arab and Muslim communities in Oklahoma, and whether he prayed at a mosque. He said that he did go to the mosque every Friday, and that he prayed and fasted and raised his children to be good Muslims. He told me that at this point, he wasn’t worried at all. “For me, I see it as an opportunity to explain to those people who may be ignorant,” he said. “Maybe they don’t know enough about the Arab culture or the Muslim culture.”

The agents kept going, wanting to know about the vehicles he owned and how he paid for his plane ticket. They also asked Ahmad if he’d ever been a part of any group that discussed violent activity against the United States. “I, of course, told them I’d never been part of any organization whatsoever,” he said. When the agents asked specifically what he knew about the destruction of the federal office building in Oklahoma City, he said that he didn’t know anything. All he’d seen on that airport TV was that something bad had happened in Oklahoma.

Ahmad was in custody for five or six hours. He told me that when it was all over, the agents said they were sorry for keeping him. Since he’d missed his connection to Rome, they rebooked him on a flight to London, so he could get to Jordan at roughly the same time as he’d originally planned.

When he got to Heathrow Airport, though, he learned that he’d arrived too late to catch his next flight and there wouldn’t be another one available for two more days. On his way out of the airport, Ahmad handed his documents to an immigration officer. “And when he looked at my name, he asked me to wait,” he said. “A few minutes later, he came with I don’t remember how many guys with guns.”

These guys with guns told Ahmad to “come with us”—his second “come with us” in less than a day. But this one felt different. In London, he was taken to a small room, where he saw his photograph printed out on a piece of paper. Then the officers—he didn’t know which agency they were from—asked him to take off all his clothes. He told them that disrobing was a violation of his religious beliefs, but they insisted: He needed to take off everything, even his underwear.

“This is a total humiliation. You know, you become very angry from the inside,” he told me. “We’re not in the jungle here. You’re treating me just like an animal now.”

The strip search didn’t turn up anything. Ahmad was allowed to put his clothes back on. And then he sat and waited in a locked room for what felt like forever, with no one telling him anything. Finally, after five hours, Ahmad got handcuffed and told he was under arrest. He was paraded through Heathrow Airport with his wrists in shackles, and escorted onto a plane by two FBI agents. Those agents sat behind him for the whole flight. He could feel every passenger in the cabin staring at him.

Ahmad likely knew less about the bombing in Oklahoma City than anyone on that plane. The people detaining him weren’t sharing any information, and he still hadn’t heard a news report. What he didn’t realize was that millions of people around the world had been hearing all about him.

Ibrahim Ahmad and his friend Imad Enchassi were part of a small Muslim community in Oklahoma City. They worshipped in a two-bedroom apartment while the group raised money to build a more permanent mosque—a spiritual home that would deepen their roots in their hometown.

On April 19, Enchassi felt shaken by the bomb that had just exploded in Oklahoma City, and by the memories it dredged up of his childhood in Lebanon. But that morning, he didn’t have time to dwell on the attack. The buffet restaurant he managed opened at 11 a.m., less than two hours after the bombing.

One of his customers that day was a man Enchassi considered a friend, someone who’d been to his house and sat at his dinner table. But on April 19, this man wasn’t feeling friendly. He looked Enchassi in the eye and said, loudly, “You people better have not done this.”

After that interaction, Enchassi called his district manager and got permission to take the rest of the day off. Back at home, he stayed glued to the radio and TV. What he heard on the news wasn’t any more comforting than what he’d gone through at work. On the CBS Evening News, Connie Chung said that the attack “was similar to the World Trade Center bombing in 1993 and similar to attacks on U.S. forces in Beirut in the 1980s.” Those supposed connections, she said, had “investigators looking for a possible link to Middle East terrorists right here in the American Midwest.”

Chung was right: Federal investigators werelooking for a link to Middle Eastern terrorism. Earlier that year, intelligence agencies had heard chatter that foreign extremists were planning a strike on the U.S. But early media reports after the bombing suggested something different: that Oklahoma itself was a hotbed of radical Islam. A former Oklahoma congressman named Dave McCurdy said that Muslim fundamentalists had been convening in the area. His source, he said, was a 1994 PBS documentary called Jihad in America.

That anxiety and anger weren’t just directed toward Ibrahim Ahmad and his family. Chicago Tribune columnist Mike Royko wrote that Middle Easterners were likely to blame for the bombing. He wrote, “President Clinton says we should be cautious about placing blame or taking action. OK. But when the time comes for punishment, it wouldn’t be an eye for eye. That’s just a swap. We should take both eyes, ears, nose, the entire anatomy.” Radio host Bob Grant told a Muslim caller he’d like to put him up against a wall with the killers and “execute you with them.”

The Council on American-Islamic Relations recorded 222 incidents of harassment and violence against Muslims in the immediate aftermath of the bombing. Someone threw a fake bomb into the playground of a Muslim day care center in Dallas. A mosque in Stillwater, Oklahoma, got shot at two days in a row. And on April 20 in Oklahoma City, a group of assailants terrorized a pregnant Iraqi refugee, breaking windows at her home and shouting anti-Muslim insults. She had a miscarriage the next day.

Ibrahim Ahmad’s family found their way to safety, with the help of Imad Enchassi. They had no idea what might happen to their husband and father, and when this was all going to end.

As Enchassi waited to learn his friend’s fate, a thought kept nagging at him—an impulse he felt ashamed of, but found impossible to ignore.

“When they said they found bomb-making material in his luggage, they were very convincing,” he told me. “The media has been so perceivably thorough in their investigation that I really suspected my own friend.”

Ibrahim Ahmad’s return flight touched down at Dulles Airport around 8 p.m. on April 20. For the third time in a little more than a day, he’d be placed inside a closed-off room. Before the FBI interrogated him, they asked him to sign a piece of paper. It said that he was waiving his right to an attorney, and that he hadn’t been coerced.

Ahmad agreed to sign, so long as he was allowed to write down everything that had been done to him in Chicago and London. When he finished that account, he got driven to another location. There, he wasgiven permission to make onephone call. He asked to be connected to his sister in Jordan, so he could tell her he’d decided to reschedule his visit.

On that call, Ahmad was making up a story to protect his family from worry. He didn’t know that his sister and everyone else in Jordan had heard about him on the news. Besides, Ahmad’s sister told him later that his voice had betrayed his fear. “You try to be calm as much as you can, but there are some things that you cannot help,” he told me.

After Ahmad got off the phone, the interrogation began. This time, all the questions were about his three pieces of checked luggage. Ahmad’sbags had gone on without him to Rome, one of the cities on his original itinerary. News outlets around the world reported what Italian officials had found inside his bags: electronics, tools, and tubes of silicone. According to media reports, those were possible bomb-making materials.

I asked Ahmad to tell me what he remembered about those bags, and what he’d stuffed inside them. “Typical person coming from Third World and come to a Western country,” he said. “You buy, like, the maximum, because everything you buy in the United States is really, really good quality.”

“Among the items he packed were two or three wireless phones, multiple car stereos, and a bunch of Craftsman tools. (“A lifetime warranty on those things,” he told me.) The tubes of silicone, he said, were for his father, who was having problems with a leaky sink. “He keeps buying cheap stuff because that’s the thing available in Jordan,” Ahmad told me. “So he said, ‘Since you are coming, why don’t you get me that good silicone from the United States?’ ”

It wasn’t just the silicone that media outlets had branded suspicious and sinister. There was also that New York Times report about him carrying pictures of military weapons. Ahmad said that those were photos from a trip to see his brother-in-law, who was training at a U.S. military base. “This was in Aberdeen, Maryland. I went to visit him. And so they had, I think, tanks and rockets, maybe from World War II,” he said. “And those pictures happened to [be] in the album and the album was in the luggage.”

All these things inside Ahmad’s luggage were likely the main reason he got strip-searched in London and sent back to the U.S. in handcuffs. It’s what the media seized on, in reports that made it sound like he could be a terrorist. It’s also what caused Enchassi to suspect that his friend might have something to do with the bombing.

Ahmad explained everything to the federal agents: the photographs, the electronics, the tools, and the stuff he’d bought to try and solve his father’s plumbing problems. “They asked me, ‘Do you know anything about silicone?’ I said, ‘The only thing about silicone, it’s good to use around the sink. That’s the only thing I know.’ ”

The agents questioning Ahmad believed he was telling the truth—that these were not bomb-making materials. Everything else that he said checked out, too. He was not, as CBS had suggested, “seen outside the federal building” “shortly before the blast.” He was just a family man from Oklahoma City who’d been on his way to visit relatives in the Middle East.

Ahmad said the agents told him, “You are innocent.” They bought him a ticket to go back home to Oklahoma City, and told him he’d be traveling under a pseudonym because his name had been leaked to the media. When he asked where that leak had come from, they didn’t give him an answer.

This time, Ahmad’s itinerary was D.C. to Nashville to Oklahoma City. In the Nashville airport, he found himself alongside a group of firemen heading to Oklahoma to help with the rescue. He overheard them talking about a Middle Eastern man who’d been brought back from London for questioning in the U.S. “But they didn’t know—this is the person!” he told me. “I am listening to a story about myself.”

It was there, in Nashville, 48 hours after the bombing, that he first began to piece together what had happened in Oklahoma. A bomb had destroyed a federal building. Scores of people were killed. The nation was in mourning.

Ahmad finally made it back to Oklahoma City on Friday, April 21. When he got to his house, his wife wasn’t there, but her brother was. “He told me she went into hiding. I said, ‘Hiding from what?’ ”

Martina’s brother told Ahmad that she’d been interrogated by the FBI, that their address had been broadcast on the news, and that Martina had taken their girls to a safe place. Ahmad’s wife and daughters had stayed with Enchassi, then moved on to the house of another friend. Around midnight, Ahmad went there to reunite with his family.

“When they opened the door and she saw me, she really dropped, like unconscious,” he said. “I think what she went through is much harder than what I went through. For her the uncertainty was the biggest thing.”

Ahmad’s 5-year-old daughter couldn’t stop crying, even after he returned home. She said that she didn’t understand why all those angry people had been outside their house. Ahmad told her that those people had thought he was a killer, and that he didn’t know why. But he told her not to worry. He said: “I’m safe now, you’re safe, and I’ve got nothing to do with all this stuff.”

Ahmad and his family finally made it back to their house early on Saturday, April 22. When he turned on the news, he learned that the real Oklahoma City bomber had been publicly identified.

Timothy McVeigh had been pulled over for a traffic violation less than an hour and a half after the bombing—just a few minutes before Ahmad’s flight to Chicago. Police took McVeigh into custody when they found he was carrying an illegal gun. In the meantime, the FBI traced the truck used in the bombing to a rental facility in Kansas. A sketch artist made drawings of the two white men who rented it. McVeigh was hours away from potentially making bail when a lawyer recognized him from one of those sketches.

McVeigh was arrested in connection with the bombing on the afternoon of April 21. Ahmad’s release from custody became public the same day. Hisexoneration did not make big headlines. The Washington Post mentioned it in the 36th and final paragraph of its front-page story on McVeigh’s arrest. “Now your story is gone. It’s history. Your story is nothing,” Ahmad told me. “Youare completely forgotten. Nobody is talking about what happened to you and your family.”

For Imad Enchassi, it was hard to see his friend’s release and Timothy McVeigh’s arrest as anything but an enormous relief. But there wasone thing that he needed to do before he got closure. After Ahmad got home, Enchassi sat his friend down and made a confession: “Couldn’t look him in the eye, ashamed, looking down. I was, in a very hesitant voice, told him, you know, “The media was very strong in condemning you, in pointing the finger towards you, that, you know, some of the people here actually, including me, thought maybe you have done it.” And I begged for his forgiveness. And he forgave me for that.”

After 9/11, Enchassi felt a calling to become an imam. He wanted to spread peace and understanding, and to promote a positive image of his faith in the media. He’s now the senior imam of the Islamic Society of Greater Oklahoma City. He’s given sermons on the doubts he felt about Ahmad after the Oklahoma City bombing. He tells that story as a reminder not to rush to judgment. He thinks about that lesson every time he sees his friend. “Ibrahim was here a few days ago, actually,” he told me in 2021, “and I swear I could still not look him in the eye.”

The date of the Oklahoma City bombing, April 19, had special significance for McVeigh and his collaborator Terry Nichols. It was the second anniversary of an event that had helped stoke the American militia movement: the federal raid in Waco, Texas, that ended with the Branch Davidian compound burning and 76 people dead. That connection, which pointed to anti-government domestic terrorists, didn’t get major media attention in the hours after the attack on Oklahoma City. The bogus connection to the Middle East did.

One of the experts who’d touted that Middle Eastern link, former congressman Dave McCurdy, said he was sorry if anyone thought he’d jumped the gun, but he continued to insist that Islamic extremists had met in Oklahoma City. Steven Emerson, the producer of the documentary Jihad in America, said he’d done nothing wrong in declaring a possible link to Middle Eastern terrorism. “I have never referred to American Muslims as the subjects of somebody who should be investigated,” he explained. “I’ve always said very precisely that militant Islamic terrorists and suspects are the ones that should be investigated.” Emerson is now the executive director of the Investigative Project on Terrorism, which calls itself “the world’s most comprehensive data center on radical Islamic terrorist groups.”

After McVeigh got caught, news outlets had to reckon with the choices they made in the hours after the bombing. CNN had broadcast the names of four individual Muslim men who had nothing to do with the bombing. One of them was Ibrahim Ahmad.

CNN’s executive vice president stood by the network’s choices, saying they were “not in the business of keeping secrets from our viewers.” CNN’s Wolf Blitzer said on the air that the network was “just reporting what we hear from reliable sources.” His colleague Bruce Morton noted that “everybody made a serious, good-faith effort to get this right, and the Arab Americans were right to be sensitive. They’ve been victimized before, but this came out pretty evenly, I think.”

In 1996, on the first anniversary of the bombing, a number of journalists checked in on Ahmad. He said that his life was in shambles. An NBC reporter gave this rundown: “Part-time jobs, shunned by neighbors, counseling for him and his wife, and a family divided. He sent his daughter to Jordan to escape the attention.” Ahmad himself told ABC, “It’s changed our life forever. We don’t feel we are welcome in this country anymore.” He said that he’d been having a recurring nightmare. He was in a courtroom, and a judge told him, “You killed those people, and we’re going to hang you.”

Ahmad filed a lawsuit against the government, saying that he’d been detained because of his ethnic heritage. He eventually dropped that case, though, and in our conversations, he wanted to focus on the positive things that happened after his detention. People left flowers on his doorstep and sent his family notes of sympathy and solidarity. He’s held onto those letters for decades, from a women’s Bible study group, a Sunday school class, and a man who offered to paint his house for free.

Ahmad left America in 1999, to be closer to his aging parents in the Middle East. When I checked in with him recently, though, he was back living in the United States, splitting his time between Denver and Oklahoma City. He has children in both cities, and his main focus now is to make sure they’re supported. He also wants them to be proud of who they are, and proud to be Americans.

“Nobody’s going to take that from you,” he told me. “There’s people who don’t understand, but that’s not the majority of Americans. Don’t be shy to be an Arab or to be a Muslim in this country.“

[cyberglittter]

ina j by buchi

[pernoctatious-charrette]

I am marginally pissed that I didn't hear about that general strike on Friday until AFTER I finished work. I need to switch up my media sources I guess

[gcu-sovereign]

For the marginal, politically motivateable worker, the general strike they do not hear about is not the Effective One.

Because if it was, you'd already know about it.

[pernoctatious-charrette]

Fair point.

[tumblr]

Reblogs in a chain now get their own notes

The reblog chain is one of the things that makes Tumblr unlike anywhere else. All the notes on reblogs are attributed to the original post, no matter which branch people actually liked or reblogged. We want to keep encouraging conversations, and give contributors the recognition they deserve. 

Soon, you'll be able to like, reblog, or reply to any part of a reblog chain, and that note will go to that reblog's author. Each reblog will have its own counts, instead of one aggregated number from every version of the post. And yes, you’ll be able to like multiple posts in one chain.

If a reblog doesn't add anything, the love flows up to the last person in the chain who did. Your post doesn't lose notes just because people spread it quietly.

Past notes will stay on the original post — we're only changing what happens from here on out. Retroactively re-attributing all of them would be... a lot.

This is just the beginning. More changes are coming as we keep building this out – stay tuned!

[pernoctatious-charrette]

Hi. Don't do this.

[pernoctatious-charrette]

I am marginally pissed that I didn't hear about that general strike on Friday until AFTER I finished work. I need to switch up my media sources I guess

[valtsv]

nothing will make you think "i have got to get weirder" more than finally feeling comfortable enough around other people to admit to interests of yours that you think make you a freak and a weirdo only to realize with a combination of embarrassment and relief that you're like a normie to them

[valtsv]

"sicko feedback loop" is a warrior's bond stronger and more meaningful than marriage

[giantratbf]

"After a millennium of darkness, the time has come for the End Magnus to be freed!"

[snow-body]

Finished Commission for Lamina of their OC. artwork (c) me

[bungerc0re]

i think it's important you speak out against the concept of iq like you would phrenology do not let that pass by uncritically

[kenofswords]

Some Over the Garden Wall flash for spooky season 🎃

[pernoctatious-charrette]

There were 3 separate situations in the last week when I was certain that I was putting my foot in my mouth. Each time I asked a friend, who told me I wasn't. And I believe these friends. Highly recommend having friends.

In completely unrelated news I need to create a fursona.

[lovely-v]

It’s crazy and fucked up that being yourself is actually the solution.

[lovely-v]

It’s like. When I was told to “just be yourself” as a kid I thought it was a passive thing. Like oh easy I just have to sit here and be myself. but the reason so many people think that “being yourself” is bullshit advice is because you actually have to make active choices to do this and it WILL make your life way more fun. You have to wear t-shirts of bands that were popular ten years ago because you like them. You have to do your hair in a way that you find cute or comfortable even if it’s “so nineties”. If your friend says a food you enjoy is gross to them, you can’t be afraid to admit you casually disagree. You have to do hobbies that you’re interested in even if you’re bad at them and you cant feel like you have to get good at something before you tell people it’s an activity you do. You have to read manga and comic books in public and get piercings your relatives think are unattractive. You don’t have to tell people you dislike that you dislike them, but you don’t have to give them your time and attention either. You have to rewatch that kids show you’re nostalgic for even if you’re in your 30s. You have to change your name if you hate it, even if only a few close friends can know. You have to get fun girly drinks at the bar. You have to order hot chocolate when you don’t like coffee and black coffee when you don’t like sweet things. I am still bad at practicing this but it is the only way to make it all tolerable.

[adzolotl]

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves A stately pleasure-dome decreed. And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

[patienz]

they fuck you up your mum and dad two vast and trunkless legs of stone i do not like it, sam i am as small as a world and as large as alone

[playwrongs]

God moves in a mysterious way:

He gives his harness bells a shake.

What will survive of him is love

If he should die before he wake.

[inthefallofasparrow]

I had a dream, which was not all a dream. See in her cell sad Eloisa spread, Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

A sudden blow: the great wings beating still Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.

If I should die, think only this of me, Between what I see and what I say, In this short Life that only lasts an hour Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

[monsterpotion]

#i get knocked down but i get up again #o‚ what a rogue and peasant slave am i! #didnt make sense not to live for fun #do you love the color of the sky? #everybody wants to rule the world #everybody walk the dinosaur #and if i could‚ i’d make a deal with god: #to keep it real i fuck him on the floor

tags by @arcnoise

[pernoctatious-charrette]

I am experiencing the least helpful form of fear and dread right now. So annoying.

All I have to do is respond to the message. Thats it. Should be easy. Come on.

[pernoctatious-charrette]

Ok, I have responded. Score one for tumblr. Now to actually do the thing I promised....

[pernoctatious-charrette]

Something has been started. I shall continue in the morning.

[pernoctatious-charrette]

I finished the task. At least there's that.

Unfortunately the other party gave up and left the group about 1 hour before my first post here, so it was already too late....

Still. I'm happy I got over my fear, even if it was too late this time. There are always other things I'm putting off.

[pernoctatious-charrette]

I am experiencing the least helpful form of fear and dread right now. So annoying.

All I have to do is respond to the message. Thats it. Should be easy. Come on.

[pernoctatious-charrette]

Ok, I have responded. Score one for tumblr. Now to actually do the thing I promised....

[pernoctatious-charrette]

Something has been started. I shall continue in the morning.

[pernoctatious-charrette]

I am experiencing the least helpful form of fear and dread right now. So annoying.

All I have to do is respond to the message. Thats it. Should be easy. Come on.

[pernoctatious-charrette]

Ok, I have responded. Score one for tumblr. Now to actually do the thing I promised....